The Lost Sovereign
by Marmiexx
Summary: Forgotten and never found. Lost, but still alive. Never to return, and never to look back. But, when a certain group of dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard call upon it to help them, it may change this person's point of view... Rated T for a reason, possibly M in later chapters. OC Story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. This is sort of an OC story, Give it a chance and, if you like it R&R because that's what makes me write! She will be paired up with someone, and you get to choose who you want her to be with! Enjoy, R&R.**

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No one has heard from her for many years, so long that many have forgotten, but some never forget. Nor do they forgive.

She left only one behind; her brother. Though, he has got on with his life, becoming the man she knew he would be, and having adventures of his own.

Her mother died giving birth to her, and her birthday was only known for the death of the queen. There would be no celebration, only mourning. Mourning for the loss of the person once loved by thousands and the person who won the heart of the King, Thranduil. She wished that people would visit and celebrate her birth, recieve presents and smile, just smile for once. But, no, she would stay in her room and try to remember the one who loved her even before she was born. Just try and remember any little details about her mother, but, every year all her efforts were in vain.

Her father only thought of her as the one who his wife gave her life for. She never had the chance to even smile at her mother before she was rapidly taken away from her. Her Mother never saw her first steps, not her first words. Only the maid saw them, for when her father looked upon her, all he saw was what he lost that day, not what he gained. He gained a child, one that would fight for what she believed in and wouldn't back down.

No one speaks of the lost Queen; no one has the heart to. Ever since, her father has been in mourning, never giving out love to either of the children in fear that they will be taken away from him and his heart will be broken again. That has made many of his decisions foolish and foolhardy, many she would remember for the rest of her life and wish that she could change.

Thranduil could only see the Queen when he looked upon the face of his daughter. She had light brown hair, a trait she received from her mother, unlike Legolas who got the gene of fair hair from his father. She had sea blue eyes that could see into the soul, much like her father; her stare was unnerving, but not unwanted.

She was short for an elf, much shorter than any elf he had ever seen. Ever since she was a baby she had been small, many mistook her for a doll. He face was heart-shaped, and he figure was small, dainty even. But her heart was large and many animals of Mirkwood had found a place in it, as well as many people for they had been captivated by her Elvish beauty. Though, many did think she was just a pretty face, sitting next to the King and smiling when necessary. That's how she thought herself to be, and she'd had enough of being that.

When she was young, and her father had taken Legolas to visit Rivendell, she took her chance and ran. Only taking her bow and sword with her, and little food that would only last her a few days. She took her steed, Lissësúl and rode until his legs could stand no more. She didn't want to be found and, therefore, never was.

She hid, travelled from town to town. Stayed with many a type and kept on moving, never stopping, never slowing, and _never_ looking back. Not looking back, in a hope that her past wouldn't catch up with her and hit her on the hind.

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On this normal Monday, Monday the 25th to be exact, something strange happened. There was a man at the bar in the 'Rose and Thorns' pub in Hobbiton, drinking a vial of liquor, though it had almost no effect on him; his sight was as sharp as ever. When another man walked in- no it was not a man, more a _wizard _to be exact.

The Hobbits behind the bar smiled kindly at him as he walked in, though inwardly they were reeling. He ducked under the door frame, catching the tip of his hat of the frame and asked for a drink.

The bartender poured him a small glass of red wine, and then filled up the regular beside the wizard with the alcohol concoction. The man nodded and chucked the money onto the counter whilst the wizard studied him.

The man had a dark green- almost black- cloak over his face, hiding all of his features from the eyes. Though brown hair peeked out from the corners of the cloak, almost reaching his shoulders. His hands were calloused, most likely from years of work and his boots were muddy. Everything else was hidden from sight.

"Found something you're looking for?" The wizard was pulled from his thoughts when a gruff voice spoke.

It was the man next to him, though he didn't look at the wizard when he spoke. He put another glass of the foul liquid to his mouth behind the cloak and drank.

"That depends…" The wizard replied.

"On what, wizard?"

The wizard chuckled. "You may call me Gandalf." The glass paused halfway towards the man's lips, hand stilled and face unreadable behind the cloak. In one swift motion, the glass continued towards his lips, the liquid emptied from the glass, and was placed roughly back onto the table.

"Nother' one, Mira." The man spoke to the barmaid.

"I'm looking for someone to share an adventure..." Gandalf explained.

"What's that to do with me?" He spoke and drank another shot.

"More than you can understand…." The man fiddled with his drink, uninterested. "There's gold involved."

The man put down his empty shot glass and tilted his head.

"I'm listening…"

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**A/N. So what did you think, hmm? Constructive criticism is always helpful and the nice review is always appreciated! Review for more, my lovely's! You can start telling me who you want her to be with, or can review for more chapters! Who is this strange man that Gandalf is talking to? Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. Thank you Jo, ****NavyReservist****, NR, and ****SweetMoonPrincess**** for reviewing. It means a lot to me! Review for more and the more views, the longer the chapters.**

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It was raining, pouring down in the dead of night. The beads of liquid clung to him like a bad odour, they were able to get into the safest and securest of places and making them damp and cold with the water from above. Most people would have been shivering from the cold, but this man was not. There was no indication that that rain was affecting him in the slightest, now way to tell what his weakness is, _well_, to the untrained eye. But, if you look closely you would find his darkest, most deepest secret staring you right in the eye. But most do not look, some never have. And the ones who do find out, well, let's say-depending on who the person is- only lasts until sunset and then no one ever hears from them again.

Water poured over his face like a waterfall, the droplets clinging to his nose and eyelashes when he looked up to the night sky, looking where to go next to find this _Hobbit hole _where his destination was. The journey was rough, but his horse stood by him all the way. Slipping and sliding on the mud, the steed's hooves were caked with grime and wet dirt.

The man left the horse to graze when he finally found the place, though only because of the marking on the door. He looked up and down, studying every inch of the underground building and admired the craftsmanship.

Shaking the water from his cloak, he walked towards the entrance. Only then did he notice how small the entrance was in comparison to his form. He would just about bang his head if he were to walk straight in without ducking.

He reached up with his arm, level with his shoulder and nocked gently on the door with his clove-clad knuckle.

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Gandalf, who was laughing merrily with the dwarves stopped dead in his tracks, laughter dying down almost instantaneously when there was a knock on the door. Everyone turned around at the noise, and Bilbo released a sigh of irritation.

"That must be Thorin."

"No, master Bofur, I believe it's not." Gandalf spoke, rising from his chair, head almost banging the ceiling. "I believe it is-"

"Who else did you invite, Gandalf?" inquired Balin.

"Someone who can help…" Gandalf remarked, gliding over to the circle- shaped door.

"Gandalf I don't think I have enough food to fill up another dwarf's stomach…" Bilbo said, panic rising within his chest at the thought of giving his emergency emergency supplies to another hungry dwarf.

"Don't worry Bilbo, this one doesn't get hungry easily…"

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His knuckle struck the wood three times and on the fourth if finally opened.

"Gandalf…"

"Rider." Gandalf replied with a knowing smirk that covered his features. He stepped aside to let the man in, revealing to the other guests and Bilbo that this was no dwarf, it was a man.

He was covered head to toe in a green cloak, revealing nothing but his muddy boots. He ducked as he walked inside, nodding to Gandalf in appreciation.

"Rider. At you service, Mr Baggins" He said with a bow towards Bilbo.

"Erm… Do you want something to eat Mr Rider, sir?" Bilbo squeaked, neck craning up to see the man's hooded face.

"No, thank you." He mumbled politely, walking over to the rest of the dwarves, and brought an extra chair up to sit next to Gandalf.

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They had been talking for quite a while know, the dishes were clean and finally the ruckus was over. Everything had settled down and mellow, and Bilbo was too strung up about the prospect of thirteen dwarves at his house. Rider was sitting quietly next to Gandalf and quite a few of the Dwarves had forgotten that he had arrived.

Gandalf was smoking on his pipe and chatting with the dwarves. Rider watched on, but never spoke. The dwarves were talking merrily of what they would spend the gold on, but that was a far thought from his mind.

However a voice directed at his drew him from his far away thoughts.

"So you're a Ranger then, yes?" Said Bofur, curiously peeking at the strange man.

"Yes, I guess you could call me a Ranger-"

Suddenly there were three loud bangs of hand against wood coming from behind the hobbit hole door. Rapidly all the laughter and chatter was stripped from the room and all that was left behind was a void of silence.

"He's here." Gandalf spoke as he stood up sharply, and proceeded to go answer to door. Gandalf yanked the door open to reveal another dwarf. He had long, dark hair and a scruffy beard.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find." He spoke, his voice monotone and rough from years of hard labour and work. "I lost my way, twice."

He looked around and walked it gingerly. "I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door." He spoke to Gandalf, indicating to the imprint branded onto the wood.

"Mark?" Bilbo questioned, voice higher pitched. "There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" He protested.

"There is a mark, I've put it there myself." Gandalf confessed. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo studied Thorin and Thorin did the same to Bilbo. "So, this is the hobbit." Thorin alleged. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" He asked.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo replied, confused.

"Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know." Bilbo replied smugly, pulling at his suspenders. Rider cringed at his words_,_ though none could tell. "But I fail to see why that's relevant."

Thorin scoffed and turned away from the Hobbit. "I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The dwarves chuckled at his snarky comment, but Bilbo looked on embarrassed and humiliated

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**A/N. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, review for more and review if you want to know a bit more or who this Rider is! Sorry for any little mistakes. Review c:**


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry for any of you who were expecting an update, but I'm not going to continue to write for this story since I'm trying to focus on my main stories. So sorry, I may continue one day, but that day is not today.

Marmiexx


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